A Ghost Of Christmas Past
by prettyinpunk66
Summary: Severus Snape hates Christmas. But why? And who will make him think differently this year? Someone who he would have never had expected... just a little xmas drabble starring everyones favourite Potions Master


**A Ghost Of Christmas Past**

It was a cool December night and nothing but the dim lights of the candles floating overhead illuminating the dark room that was Severus Snape's quarters. His room was a rather standard size with nothing much but the ordinary every day essentials occupying the spaces here and there, (although his office was filled with much more sinister objects to no doubt further frighten the students). The walls were a bare and cold black stone, and the floors were not much different. No carpet. No rugged oak flooring. Just the dark stone bricks that held up the castle with a few green worn rugs here and there. It was strange to say that these rooms looked lived in as they were so cold, but the worn dark evergreen leather of the couch mixed with the dark antique wood of the coffee table was more than enough signs to clarify that someone at least, occupied these rooms at some point. There was no personal touches anywhere. No photos or trinkets. Nothing but necessity.

"Kitty, I would care for some tea" the hunched figure sitting at the desk called out to the empty room. His hair was slicked back and hung heavy at the nape of his neck, the ebony contrasting brilliantly with the porcelain whiteness of his skin. He was cloaked all in black, semi expensive robes and wore no other colours on his person but that of the spirit of death himself. His body was still, except for his hand which was twitching every now and again. The quill before him floating in precision as if all on its own.

He sighed heavily causing his shoulders to sag ever so slightly, "I asked for tea" he stated coolly. His body showed no signs of the anger he was feeling, but it seemed to radiate off him none the less, oozing out of his very core.

A large **POP** echoed around the room.

"Kitty is so sorry master, she was busy in the kitchens helping the others with the dinner" a small voiced sounded followed by rushed bare footsteps. Severus sighed again knowing he had no time for fruitless excuses. He lifted his bent head in preparation to scold the servant for not answering him quick enough when he quickly closed his mouth again, suddenly thinking better of it. _She_ would not want him to treat such a defenceless creature in such a way. He growled in frustration for feeling sentimental and glared at the creature in front of him. The blame placed heavily on her shoulders.

A small timid house elf slid the tray of black tea and chocolate biscuits onto the only free corner of the man's desk, sliding it carefully passed his elbow as not to anger him further. She was afraid of him and had been raised to not disobey her master, but it was very busy in the kitchens tonight and she could not of come earlier when called no matter how much she had wanted to.

"Is that all that sir needs?" the female elf questioned as she gazed up at her master through thick black lashes. Her hands gripped the Pingu covered pillow case she was wearing as a makeshift dress.

Severus Snape's eyes refocused on the fourth years essay he was correcting, Fern Horn a rather dimwitted Slytherin that had made too many mistakes to recall but had been marked 80% nevertheless. He moved onto the next parchment just as Kitty vanished again, presumably back to the kitchens.

**2:04am.**

He had been at this for hours now and his eyes were heavy and tired, but he would not stop. He had no time for stopping, he had things that needed to be done. Papers to mark and minds to preoccupy. He couldn't risk thinking the chance of letting his mind stray tonight of all nights. It would not end well at all. He hated this time of year; all the smiles and cheer, the presents and most of all the celebrations. He wasn't one to miss the Christmas Feast for anything, but it wasn't out of choice. Being one of the teachers who never had any other plans for the Yuletide season, he was expected to come, and come he did. Every year like clockwork. Old, rusty but reliable clockwork. And he knew tomorrow wouldn't be any different, no matter how dreadful all the cheerfulness made him feel. He sighed in frustration and moved onto the grading of another essay, a smart mouthed Gryffindor. He smirked as his quill weaved through the air barely touching the parchment; 40%.

**2:37am.**

He knew looking at the clock was only succeeding in doing two things; making time move much slower than he wished, and making him more frustrated by every second that seemed to take three more to move onto the next. This night would be a long one, but he knew that. Still, he couldn't sleep. He wouldn't sleep for it would remind him too much of _her_. No. He shouldn't be thinking about _her._ Ah, another Gryffindor. He glanced over the answers and grunted in realisation. Hermione Granger, she would at least need to be awarded 60% if not more. He hated that girl and her unlimited supply of brain cells. It aggravated him, to put it nicely, to give a silly heroic Gryffindor anything over 50%. None of them deserved anything more. Still, he marked Granger's 70% nonetheless, for deep down she reminded him of _her_...

**3:17am.**

The stack of parchments on his desk was slowly diminishing away to reveal the mahogany underneath. Not a good sign at all. His tea was gone also and only two chocolate digestives remained. He needed to find something else to do with his time soon and some other supply of energy or else he would be sleeping before dawn even caressed the sky outside. The sky red as the hair that covered _her_ head. Silky and flowing like flames in the wind. He shook his own head violently at the image, "get a hold of yourself now" he uttered in a stony breath. His eyes slightly wet in the corners, (which he would say was from sweat from the sheer exertion of correcting so many incompetent students work, but deep down he knew it was not).

**4:01am.**

The biscuits were gone and the essays were marked. His eyes were heavier now, their colour bloodshot and red. He knew he wouldn't last much longer and he was silly for trying to but it just hurt so much. It hurt to think of _her_, to see _her_ in his head and then awake to find that _she _was no longer here. _She_ would never be here and it was all his fault...

"Kitty! Kitty come here now!" Severus called out into the darkening room as he reached out for a firewhisky bottle. It was half full and he would need more. Where was that blasted elf, he thought as he called on her again. The candles were diminishing in the corners of the room, there flames as weak and tired as he was. He drank a few long swigs of the burning liquid before pushing it to the side, bringing a careful slender arm over his face and attempting to rub his temples in a bid to soothe the headache that was surely approaching from his over stimulation of his brain at this time of the morning. A headache that was made worse no doubt from his urge to drink at times like these. _Her_ favourite time was always morning. _She_ was always chipper and cheerful, the complete opposite of himself. He always told himself that was what drew him to _her_. Like a creeping moth to a sturdy flame. _She_ was his flame, his little bit of light in his life and he just had to put it out. Extinguish it so early. So young...

A barely inaudible sound echoed off the walls as salty tears threatened to spill down his sallow skin. He slammed his fist onto the table, a loud resounding thud shuddered throughout the almost empty room. He hated himself for what he had did. Sure, he always had known deep down inside that the things he was doing, the choices he had made after his school years were not the wisest of ones. But he was accepted with them. They welcomed him when others wouldn't and he was angry with himself to admit that he had done anything to keep that. Even for a while.

His clouded head fluttered with memories. Too many ones. The happy mixed with the sad and the horrendous. He should have listened to _her_ more. He should have never called _her_ that stupid word. The one _she_ hated so much and then _she_ would have been here, not with him for he was not a fool. But in his life as a recurrent figure who was there to guide him to make the right choices. The ones he should of made all them years ago.

Shuffling could be heard as tiny feet scuppered across the floor towards the sorrow filled man who was still slumped at his desk. He was crying freely now as a half empty bottle of fiery liquid stood next to his head, which lay in his tear soaked hands on his desk. Bright eyes gazed upon him in a new light, realisation dawning in them that this was the same man who was always cruel and unkind. That he too felt just like she and she was glad that she had come again. And for a special reason.

A little hand stretched across the desk, pushing a lumpy sock over to the potions master. He stopped his flow of tears as soon as he felt it collide with his elbow but did not dare look up to see what or who it was from.

A small squeak sounded followed by a **POP**.

Only then did Severus look up with swollen red lids and gaze at the object. The green of the sock folded as neatly as possible to try and hide the object within. He gazed around the room unsure wether or not to open it, but feeling to tired to fight with his usual grumpy self which was telling him not to do something as foolish, and outstretched a tentative hand until his white elegant fingers clawed onto it and pulled it to him. He then proceeded to waste no more time before tugging it open to reveal a small shabby frame, home-made in dried macaroni and random bits of cereal boxes and an ordinary chocolate frog. His expression was bewildered for a moment until his eyes caught sight of a note attached to the outside of the sock;

_To Master,_

_Kitty has noticed your like of chocolate things and wanted to please you. Kitty also made a little frame for a photo she found of Master while cleaning the library. Hope this makes Master very happy._

_Merry Christmases_

_Kitty _

He looked from the note to the chocolate frog and then to the frame. His eyes widened in surprise once he took in the photo encased in the delicately made frame. It was _her_. It was his _Lilly_, and _she_ was with him. He smiled a sad smile as he placed it on his desk in high position for him to always see, for it was a happy photo of a sixteen year old him smiling beside a beauty he would never see again but in his dreams, and he wanted to always remember that day. The day before he had made the biggest mistake of his life and had called _Lilly Evans, _angelic _Lilly_, a Mudblood. The day his and _her_ life had changed and not for the better.

With one last glance at the little frame he waved his wand and then happily made his way to bed, knowing that tonight his dreams would be filled with happy memories and not of the sad ones of _her_ dying and how it was all his fault. And he had one little house elf to thank for that and thank he would. Kitty would be in for quite a shock to find a little pair of bright emerald and silver socks awaiting for her in the morning. It was the very least he could do for the little house elf who had brightened up his Christmas.


End file.
